I miss my cat.

I miss holding him in my arms. I have two others, but they don’t like to be held. I could pick Sam up and carry him all over the house. He’d sit straight and proud like he was royalty, born to never let his feet touch the ground.

I miss his fur, his nice clean smell, his extremely loud purr.

And I miss his spirit.

His “I am going to rip this newspaper to shreds and I don’t care if you’re trying to read it” and his “if you don’t want me to pounce on your feet, then stop moving them under the covers” attitude.